


Shadows of the trees, witnessing the wild breeze

by rosa_himmelblau



Series: The Roadhouse Blues [15]
Category: Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26014294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: You never know.
Series: The Roadhouse Blues [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1069713
Kudos: 2





	Shadows of the trees, witnessing the wild breeze

_If there are stewardesses, the answer was no. Is that an aphorism to live by or what?_ Vinnie stroked the hair of the girl lying next to him. Its color was natural; Vinnie knew that not because she was naked—that wasn't a true test—but by the way it felt. He was becoming a connoisseur of women's hair, with a sub-specialty in blondes. It wasn't a bad hobby, and to be perfectly honest, it was one he'd spent more than a few nights in high school dreaming of—as an introduction to other things. _So, dreams can come true, it can happen to you, if you're living with Sonny Steelgrave._

Morgan was asleep, lying half on top of him, breathing softly on his chest. Sonny was lying next to him with his back to him, half-curled around Wendy, who was probably asleep, too. It seemed protective, the way Sonny would wrap himself around you when he slept with you, unless you knew him; it wasn't protective, it was possessive. When you belonged to Sonny, you were his.

_Of course, since the answer has never been yes, I could be wrong. Maybe even if Rudy said all was forgiven, there would still be stewardesses. Celebratory stewardesses, wrapped in gold ribbons?_ Vinnie laughed to himself.

"What?" Sonny's voice, very soft. Vinnie'd known he wasn't asleep.

"Nothin'. Just thinking."

Vinnie's circumspect response told Sonny what he'd been thinking about. "Yeah, I'll tell you about it later. Nothin' good."

"That's what I figured." Sonny's toes were stroking Vinnie's calf.

Wendy said something Vinnie couldn't understand, but Sonny's response he heard. "I dunno, can't see the clock."

Vinnie glanced over at the bedside table. "It's two-sixteen."

Wendy said something else, probably something about what time she had to get up because Sonny's answer was, "Don't worry, I never sleep that late."

_Yeah, in about four hours he's going to be up, dragging me off to a gym and punching me repeatedly. You wanna come watch?_  
  
Sonny's foot was resting just below his knee. Morgan had her hand on his thigh, and he thought maybe she was awake, too, at least a little bit. Vinnie was awake, but he didn't really want to be, so he stayed quiet.

Even though he and Sonny had done this a couple times back in the old days, when Sonny brought home stewardesses, Vinnie always thought of Roger, and the girls Susan had sent, before Vinnie had even heard of Susan Profitt. They'd spoken German, and nothing but German—or, at least, they'd spoken no English, and Roger had said they were German, and why would Roger want to lie about that? Then again, it was Roger so—

Vinnie didn't want to go into that maze, he was sleepy, and he didn't have any bread crumbs to drop along the way. Whatever those girls had been speaking, it had definitely been a Germanic language, and Vinnie's ear was for the Romance—all those Germanics sounded angrily alike to him. Vinnie hadn't thought to try Italian on them. To be honest, he hadn't given much thought to talking to them at all; they'd certainly known what to do without any instruction from him. _But they were **not** Nazis. _ This time Vinnie stifled his laughter, since even in the privacy of later he couldn't explain about Frank yelling at him over how long it had taken to get Mr. "My Territory, I'm In Charge Here" off the fake scent of Nazis Vinnie had used to get him to pay some attention to the case. Bringing up Frank's name invariably provoked something in Sonny Vinnie couldn't quite understand. It seemed to be jealousy, but it didn't seem to have anything to do with **him** , and that didn't make sense. Not that it would make sense for Sonny to be jealous because Vinnie and Frank had been close, but it would be Sonny. What Vinnie couldn't figure out was, what else did Sonny have to be jealous of Frank for?

The girls Sonny brought home all spoke English. Sonny was talking to Wendy now, and though Vinnie couldn't hear most of what he was saying, he could hear her giggle occasionally.

"Yeah, but nobody wants to fuck a **flight attendant."** Giggle. Sonny's foot was moving up and down his leg again; Sonny knew he was still awake. 

"I'm not getting up." Vinnie pulled his pillow over his face, and when Sonny came over to take it from him, he swung it hard, aiming for the bleachers and catching Sonny off-guard. "I'm not getting up! I told you that when you suggested switching girls—"

Sonny got up off the floor. "Yeah, I heard you, now get up."

"You had your choice—you wanted a work-out this morning, you should'a let me sleep."

Sonny laughed. "You weren't asleep!"

"I would've gone back to sleep if you hadn't told Wendy to come over and—" You might belong to Sonny, but it didn't mean he wouldn't share. Obviously.

"You didn't complain about it while she was doing it," Sonny said smugly.

"I'm not complaining now, I'm just telling you, I'm not sparring with you on three hours sleep. If that's the kind of work-out you want, why don't I just lay here while you punch me 'til you're tired."

"Get up," Sonny repeated slowly, pulling the covers off the bed. "Get in the shower—"

"I have to shower before you beat the crap out of me? You're out of your mind—"

"—get dressed—"

"If you want an advantage, why don't you just hit me in the head with a baseball bat before we get in the ring? It'd be easier than bringing home girls—"

"And nearly as much fun," Sonny agreed. His good mood, and the way he wasn't arguing, were pissing Vinnie off. "But this morning we're going out to breakfast. Tonight you can get your necessary twelve hours beauty sleep, and tomorrow morning we'll go to the gym. After I clock you with a baseball bat. Now get up and get dressed."

"You're taking me to breakfast?" Vinnie couldn't have explained why he was so suspicious of this offer; Sonny was always in a good mood after he'd shared a bed and a couple of girls with Vinnie. "What time is it?"

"It's nearly eight."

"Did the girls leave?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago. Are you getting up, or do you want your shower in here?"

Vinnie got up. Sonny wasn't above dumping cold water on him; hell, Sonny enjoyed dumping cold water on him.

Because he was a highly-skilled investigator, trained in pattern-seeking and detail-oriented thinking, and because he had nothing to investigate, Vinnie spent his time observing Sonny's patterns.

Two stewardesses and the two of them in the same bed pretty much guaranteed Sonny being in a good mood the next day; the same equation with the added fillip of them switching girls usually resulted in Sonny being in an even better mood, and for an even longer time. Vinnie knew why—Sonny liked fucking a girl Vinnie had just fucked, he liked knowing Vinnie was fucking a girl **he** had just fucked. It was all perfectly normal, in a seriously perverse way. Vinnie had heard Sonny telling Wendy exactly what to do to him—Sonny probably knew more about what Vinnie liked in bed than Vinnie did himself, consciously, anyway; Sonny was also pretty detail-oriented.

And on more than one occasion, Vinnie had noticed Sonny just watching him and whatever stewardess he was with, while Sonny ran his hand slowly up and down some part of the stewardess he was with. Sonny wanted him, on some level anyway. Not that that was any secret, except maybe to Sonny, who was trying to keep it from himself. Maybe sometime Vinnie would do something about that, but not today. Not today.

"What did Rudy say?" Vinnie was out of the shower, standing in the doorway. Sonny was making the bed, which Vinnie got some kind of inexplicable pleasure out of watching.

"Same old thing."

Vinnie didn't know what that meant because Sonny had never told Vinnie exactly what Rudy had said the other times. Vinnie always asked but never got a real answer. Still, he asked. "Same old thing like what?"

And this time Sonny answered. "Same old thing like bring you back, then quietly put my head on the chopping block." Sonny threw Vinnie's pillow and pillowcase at him. He always did this, made the bed, but left Vinnie's pillowcase for Vinnie to put on himself. Sonny was crazy, but what else was new?

"And what's your counter-proposal?" Vinnie asked.

"No."

Vinnie laughed. "Good position."

"Can you think of a compromise? Maybe I should just get a big packing crate and ship you home, you think that would work?"

Vinnie threw his pillow-cased pillow onto the bed. "Yeah, well, be sure you drill some air holes or I'm not getting in it."

Sonny glanced over at him. "You can't go to breakfast like that. You'll get hypothermia, and probably arrested."

"Probably?" Vinnie threw his towel at the shower rod, knowing he'd miss and not caring, then he went to get his clothes out, throwing jeans and socks and T-shirt on the bed while he let the moving around the room air dry him a little more.

"Depends." Sonny's eyes devoured him, flames that stroked his skin the way a warm breeze would. "You get a police **woman** , you could probably talk your way out of it."

Vinnie looked away from Sonny, from his I-wanna-fuck-you smile that bled into his voice. What happened last night—Sonny's hand squeezing and stroking his ass for about ten minutes while Vinnie was fucking Morgan—seemed about as close as he'd ever get. It happened every time Sonny brought home girls; at some point there would be Sonny's hand on him in a decidedly inappropriate place. It didn't last very long, but it always made Vinnie wish they were alone. Though of course if they were alone, it would be furtive fumbling in the dark followed by Sonny pretending nothing had happened. The stewardesses seemed to cut down on the fumblings.

"I don't think I'll risk it." Vinnie sat down on the bed to put on his shorts.

"Yeah." Sonny was still smiling at him. "And where would you carry your wallet?"

"What do I need a wallet for? You're paying. Hey, did you look at that brochure I picked up in the lobby? They've got a restored gallows somewhere around here."

"A restored gallows?" Sonny repeated. He sat down next to Vinnie on the bed, handed him his socks. Vinnie took them and put them on. "Why would you want to see a gallows?"

Vinnie shrugged. "Have you ever seen one?"

Sonny laughed. "Yeah, OK, after breakfast we'll see the gallows. What else they got around here?" He handed Vinnie his jeans.

"Nothing I remember." Vinnie pulled on his jeans. They didn't zip very well. Sonny noticed, but he didn't say anything. Vinnie wasn't sure how he knew Sonny noticed.

"Maybe we should do some shopping," Sonny said.

"You're sitting on my shirt," Vinnie said, tugging on it. Sonny stood up and Vinnie put his shirt on. It fit, anyway. Since he'd started putting the weight on, he didn't seem to be able to stop. "Something you need?"

"You never know." He was still looking at Vinnie that way, and Vinnie found himself smiling for no good reason.

"Yeah, Sonny, you're right. You never know."


End file.
